Protocanonical: Sovereign Trespass
by Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant
Summary: The Dragonborn has hatched a mad plan—an invasion into the Soul Cairn, to free all within. Whether or not he'll survive is up to the will of the gods. However, his wife and those who love him aren't so sure. (Standard Dragonborn/Set after Dawnguard and Main Game)


A/N: This is my first Elder Scrolls fanfic. Feel free to review, I love reviews. This is set sometime after the Dawnguard and most of the main game's quest arcs. Your comments, suggestions, opinions, thoughts, advice, and critiques are very much welcome. Just no flames—or I'll nuke you from high orbit.

 _Edited_ _with suggestions from_ maximsk.

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 ** _Departure into Death…?_**

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 _ **Crashed**_ [remixed]— **Daughtry** [ghyprh]—(YouTube, Google Play, AmazonMP3, iTunes, Spotify)

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 **Date:** 202 4E, Hearthfire 15  
 **Time:** Midday  
 **Location:** Whiterun City

 ** _"My task is set before me, girl_**  
 ** _My mission clear and true_**  
 ** _There'll be black knights and dragons, girl_**  
 ** _But I will always come for you…"_**

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Inside Breezehome, and upstairs in the Master Bedroom, Gabriella paced back and forth nervously. Whenever a sound from the outside came to her hearing, be it a neighing horse or Sven Conanson giving orders, her red eyes would flicker to the main door, afraid of what was to come. Across the hall came the sounds of Lydia sharpening her sword. Doors opened and closed, and many feet tramped throughout the building, gathering materials or getting orders from the Dragonborn.

All of it frightened her to no end.

She was always nervous, for the taint of the Dark Brotherhood had remained with her even after the Dragonborn, Vahlok, had spared her life and brought her home. During those first few months she had stayed inside, too scared to venture out for fear of Penitus Oculatus agents and the local guards. Lydia had taken pity upon her, being isolated as she was, and appointed herself as Gabriella's protector. As a result she became one of the former assassin's few friends, and was her "sword and shield" in addition to the Thane's.

Now Gabriella's confidence was stronger, enough to socialize with the others in the Bannered Mare, but the fear of her past persisted. But this time she had good reason to be afraid.

Vahlok was going to the ruins of Volkihar Keep. His mission: Destroy the Soul Cairn and liberate every lost creature within.

Gabriella accidentally learned about it nearly three months ago while he was away in Falkreath, rummaging through his dresser— _by the Nine, that man seemed to have no end of clothing and armor!_ —in search of lint and mothballs for her experiments. She was about to close the drawer, her arm full of ingredients, when a little book caught her eye. Its cover had the symbol of Clan Volkihar upon it, an eight-pointed snowflake, and seemed out of place inside a chest of clothes. Moving carefully, and mindful of her load, she pulled it out and closed up the dresser. After putting away her collected ingredients (intended for making a better polish that would _stick_ longer upon the cutlery) Gabriella went to place the book elsewhere.

All the while curiosity was eating at her: W _hy would Vahlok have a book about vampires?_ was her constant thought as she went back upstairs. It made no sense. The Volkihar Clan had been destroyed last year, following the breaking of the Siege of Windhelm, and there was no reason to keep information on them any longer. Or, at least, not where any one can find it; all books relating to the Clan were safely stored away at Dawnguard. And why inside his dresser, of all the places?!

At last curiosity won over, and she opened it when inside Vahlok's room, the door closed. She didn't want Lydia finding out, she looking at her Thane's property. It didn't matter if Gabriella was Vahlok's wife; Lydia would guard a dragon with her life should her Thane order her to, and woe betide anyone who got in her way.

What she read was both fascinating and shocking. Fascinating, because she learned yet another side to the enigmatic man who had turned her life upside-down, and the assassin within enjoyed learning information about "targets". Shocking, because of what was contained therein, even for her. It detailed all sorts of things which had gone on inside the Keep, many of them disgusting (once or twice she feared she'd lose her stomach), and many interesting. It was, however, the final few pages which sent a chill down her spine.

She had used soul gems many times in her enchantments, often using them to augment her alchemy; many of the things she used in her former life had been empowered by soul gems, of all types. But what _happened_ to those souls, once they were used, she never bothered to learn, nor cared. It was all business as usual for her; that or sending them to the Void. Now she did. And it was appalling—soul remnants were condemned to a life of "existence" in eternal loneliness inside a dark realm. What was more, Vahlok had scribbled in the margins fragments of a plan that she knew would come to pass about going there—one last time—and end it permanently.

Now that day had come.

She stopped moving, feeling a strange tingling sensation flutter throughout her body. What had happened to her, that she should feel so afraid of nothing? _By the Nine,_ she swore, _what is wrong with me?_ She was supposed to be accepting of this—many of her siblings in the Brotherhood had gone out and never returned home, and she felt nothing in the slightest for them, expect perhaps to remark on how weak they had been to let themselves get killed. Even during the Civil War at its height—when she had come face to face with the Emperor during the last battle for Solitude, which had been a shock in and of itself—she had never felt so strongly about this.

She wasn't supposed to be prone to outbursts of emotion like this. Astrid would've called her weak, pathetic. It would've only been a matter of time before she somehow got her throat slit while on a job because she couldn't keep her emotions under control. Assassins were supposed to be silent, cold-blooded, and ruthless, not wimps.

So why did she feel so concerned for a man who had single-handed led the Penitus Oculatus to the Sanctuary and destroyed the last Chapter of the Brotherhood? The Nine knew he had plenty of strength and prestige behind him, more than enough to keep him safe. He had been a vampire and had used that to bring down Volkihar from the inside!—and had yet another title added to his name!

Gabriella sighed deeply, took a seat and rest her head within her arms. She felt tired yet tense all the same.

The Dawnguard had grown in strength after the Civil War, with many men and women joining its ranks to eliminate the vampiric scourge of the Clan, and had remained steady after Volkihar Keep and her inhabitants were obliterated; other, lesser vampires were out there to be destroyed. Now they had mobilized for action at the call of Vahlok, in Whiterun. Vigilants of Stendarr, soldiers of the Imperial Legion, wizards from Winterhold, and the Companions all too joined the impromptu army, and for various reasons: The Empire and the Vigil, to be rid of a Daedric power that may threaten Tamriel; the College, to study a realm of Oblivion and learn more about it in safety before it was annihilated.

The Companions, however, were more pragmatic—glory and honor, and further immortalization through song and poetry. Even though Vahlok was Harbinger none of them turned down the chance to win glory and honor like never before. Vahlok even enlisted the terrifying dragons. Through their leader, Paarthurnax, he convinced a great number of them to convey his men across the sea, and provide air support when inside the Soul Cairn.

Surely he was safe from all harm. Gabriella just knew it—

"Ho! make way, make way!" came Sven's voice again.

Gabriella jumped again, then cursed herself. _It's no use, girl,_ she said, _no use. He won't listen._ Vahlok was the Dragonborn—he was a Legate in the Imperial Legion, adviser to the Arch-Mage, Harbinger of the Companions. And, lesser known, Guildmaster to the Thieves Guild and a Nightingale. Nothing could change his path once he was set on it. Not even she.

But this was madness! Venturing into Oblivion was a death sentence—no, worse than death. Wait… what was she thinking? _Slow down, Gabriella, slow down,_ she told herself firmly. _He can take care of himself. He's a big boy._ But that did not shake the feeling that this may be the last she would see of him.

And yet he was just downstairs, gathering thing for the coming battle. Why was she so afraid? She was a former assassin, by the Nine, and feared no one! Why?

"My Thane, I have two more potions of healing for you," Lydia's voice drifted up to her.

"Thank you, Lydia, but really, I have enough already," Vahlok replied, his deep voice mellow and soft. "Sven will make sure I have the necessary number. I don't want to be overburd—"

"You never carry enough healers as it is," Lydia retorted. "The number of times I had to haul your ass out of danger's way is more than I can count, and I tell you, I will have none of it this time. Stop loading up on Frost and Fire Resistance when a perfectly good enchanted suit of armor will do instead, and focus on what is important!" There came the sound of a fist smacking armor. "If you don't, I'll ask Sven to put you out of action and let _him_ deal with the Soul Cairn. Understand?"

A sigh. "Understood, Lydia."

Gabriella stood and ventured out into the hall. Lydia's room was just across from the Master Bedroom, with the children's bedroom directly on her left. It had been a hassle, dealing with the builders when they expanded Breezehome to accommodate a new attic and four more rooms, but worth it. Now the house was as large Jorrvaskr's ground floor. It was a shame that the children, an adopted boy by the name of Aventus Aretino and Gabriella's twin daughters, were with the Battle-Borns, but under the circumstances they had to be. Their home had been turned into a base of operations for the coming invasion.

Below her, by the fire, stood Vahlok and Lydia. Or rather, Lydia. Hands on her hips and a firm set to her mouth showed exactly what her current mood was. Gabriella's husband, meanwhile, seemed to stare into the fire meditatively. Two others were in the house, an old Imperial Vahlok had met in Solitude and Vignar Grey-Mane. Both were conversing on serious matters, and ignored them.

"So, are you going to take them or not?" Lydia asked again. The faint shimmering of enchantments were visible on her Dwarven armor, a mixed combination of Fortification spells and wards. Only her boots were enchanted to lighten the burden of both armor and anything she carried. A blessing when on the field of battle.

"Dammit woman, I have a horse to carry these things!" Vahlok answered, turning from the fire to her. From where he sat Gabriella could only see the back of his head. "It's not going to be a siege—it's going to be a raid, a swift hammer-blow of the gods."

"Your memory is notoriously unreliable—"

"That is what Sven is for, woman."

"What about when you don't have him? He has a wife too, you know, and cannot always be with you. You _must_ learn to remember these things. Shall I bring you to mind of the Siege of Fort Greenwall? What about Kastav, Neugrad? Or what about the time those Forsworn nearly took—?"

"Fine, fine, just give me the damned healers." Vahlok suddenly stood and snatched the bottles from Lydia's hand. "I'll take 'em only to keep you out of my hair," he snapped.

"If you had any," she scoffed. Gabriella held back a giggle—Vahlok kept all hair off his head to better accommodate his helmet.

Vahlok waved that away. "Go and check with Sven. Noster's waiting for you. Make sure Irileth has marshaled—"

"We've got that taken care of, Thane. Honestly, you worry too much."

"Just go and check." When Lydia raised an eyebrow, Vahlok added, " _Please_." His huscarl nodded, smiling, and turned to leave. She stopped by Noster and whispered to him. Vignar seemed to get the message, and with a hurried "I've got to see Eorlund", left the house. After a few moments of conversation both Noster and Lydia soon departed. The door closed with a click.

Vahlok turned and went over to a bookshelf. After some time, he chose a book and returned to his seat. For a time there was nothing but the sound of turning pages; from the outside came the sounds of men, horses, and great _whooshes_ of wind (that would be the dragons) into the house.

Gabriella crept down the stairs, as silent as a mouse. She hadn't worn her assassin's armor in months but she still knew a few tricks to make herself quiet, even in ordinary clothing (she refused to wear anything that resembled a dress, except nightgowns). Treading softly upon the floorboards, she came up behind him and set her hands upon his shoulders.

"Husband?" she asked softly.

"Hmmm…?" He looked back, a finger marking a line in the book. "Yes, Gabriella?"

Vahlok, a word in the Dragon tongue meaning "Guardian", was a handsome Nordic man of nearly thirty years. Brown-haired and blue-eyed, except when enchantments went wrong, he was typical of his race, being powerfully built and quite proficient in weaponry. Unlike most Nords he was born in Cyrodiil, in a small town which bordered Valenwood, and raised upon the deserts of Elsweyr while traveling with his father's caravan. As a result he knew many things most Nords couldn't dream of. Of course, knowledge only went so far when one was setting himself up for suicide.

"Why do you do this?" she said, coming around to sit beside him. "Why are you convinced you can do the impossible? Is there nothing that will convince you that you've done enough?"

He sighed and closed his book. The title, " _The Doors of Oblivion_ ", glinted as the firelight played across its silvered letters. "Gabriella," he began, "you of all people should know why. I do it to help people, not because I want glory. Being the Dragonborn is enough already."

"But why challenge the Daedra? Challenge Sithis? They're gods, and you a mortal man."

"Half-mortal," he corrected. "The dragons are the children of Akatosh, and that makes them—"

"Vahlok!" she said, cutting across him. "Why won't you listen? It's bad enough that you go out riding all over Skyrim and gods-know-where-else. Why won't you stay where it is safe?"

"Gabriella," he answered with a hint of amusement, "I've defeated giants and spectral wolves. Surely I can take care of myself."

"You idiot!" she screeched, standing up and smacking him across the face. "You can't take care of yourself! Lydia is right about you—nearly every time I see you, you need a poultice or stitches for whatever wound you get! I've had enough of this, you hear me?! _Enough!_ " Before he could utter a word in defense she turned around and stalked to the underground Laboratory, far from him. Such was her temper she took hold of the door and shut it with more force than was usual.

And then within the safety of the Lab, within its silence, she burst into tears. She couldn't hold it back any longer—no matter what he'd think of her, dissolving into tears like this, she just didn't care any more.

"Gabriella…?"

There came a soft knock at the door. She did not answer.

Then the door eased open, carefully, for he knew that when sometimes provoked Gabriella would send his way a Lightning Bolt. Vahlok slipped in, and shut it behind him. "Gabriella…?" he asked again, coming up to her. She ignored him, staring at the wall from her seat. "Can you tell me what is wrong?"

"You know what is wrong," she muttered, but did not turn to face him.

"Honestly, I do not know what is wrong," he answered, placing his hands upon her shoulders—almost the reverse of what she had done. But Gabriella did not acknowledge him. "Please, tell me, and I'll listen," he said, brushing his lips close to a pointed ear.

For a time she still did not move, simultaneously blinking away tears that nonetheless continued to course down her face. Then, at last, she sighed. "Sit next to me, Vahlok." He stretched out an arm and dragged a chair over, then sat down beside her.

"So, what is on your mind, my dear?" he asked, placing an arm around her shoulder. "What is it that I need to hear?"

Gabriella considered his words. It was possible that he either had not heard her before, or was humoring her. Whichever way, that was… tactful on his part. But she didn't care either way. He had asked, and by all that was holy, she was going to take it before the opportunity fled. "Vahlok," she said, reaching out and covering the calloused and scarred hand with her own, softer one.

"I'm here."

"I want you to stay… to stay home. You have a family now, and… and we need you here. The children need you, to be a father for them. Sven's wife needs him too, you know. And…" she drifted off, unable to find words. Gabriella looked down.

"And? Please, tell me. It's not like you to be like this." Vahlok said, pulling her over into an embrace. "What is troubling you?"

Will he listen or won't he? That was the question. Should she let down her guard more than she had in the past hour, or stay silent? She had her daughters, two beautiful girls, who needed him. She had Aventus, who had lost everything and sacrificed everything to find a home, even with morally hardened criminals, who needed him—almost as much as she. Without him, what would they all do?

She took a couple of breaths, deep ones. Still the words would not come. Vahlok merely continued to hold her, lending her assurance that everything would be all right, and that there would be no judgement.

"I… I… I want you home," she admitted, at last. "I want you here where I can see you. I know it is not like me, but… I've changed from who I used to be. I don't want to be alone."

"What happened to the woman who told me she killed a unicorn with a crochet needle on a moonlit night during a stroll down a beach?" he asked gently, teasingly.

"You are what happened. Your daughters are what happened," she answered blandly. "You saved me from the Penitus Oculatus, from that attack. You spared my life, and gave me something else to live for. A new life. I knew Astrid's leadership was failing," she went on, fighting hard to get the words out. "I knew Cicero and his Night-Mother—" she shuddered, remembering how Vahlok had, with a Shout of fire, burned that coffin to cinders. "—couldn't save us. I knew it from the be—beginning th—that we were falling… falling… that it was over…"

"Where do you fit in?" came his gentle answer after a time.

"I… I didn't know what to think," she said, pausing to wipe away the tears which had come on with renewed force. Despite the Brotherhood's debauchery, she had still loved them as her family, had looked up to them. They were all she had known. "I don't know. But then you came and… and set me up again. I can't explain why…"

Gabriella felt his lips touch her forehead when she halted again, then leave. A residue of moisture remained. She looked up again. Her crimson-colored eyes met his own. He was smiling. "I see what is troubling you, Gabriella," he replied quietly. "You want me safe because… without me, you won't have anything to live for, right?"

 _He understands!_

Gabriella nodded, but said nothing. It was… shameful to admit it. She had been self-sufficient before, but now… what had happened to her? No, not what had happened to her. That was a year and a half ago, after the Sanctuary was destroyed. Everything had been uprooted from out underneath her, and she had become something else entirely.

"I thought you and Olfina were such good friends," Vahlok remarked dryly, confirming her thoughts. "Each time I walk past her she insults my manhood." He shrugged. "Not that I care for her opinion, for all that I admire and respect her family."

"Olfina's never had any guts to begin with," Gabriella retorted, feeling a bit peeved. "All of that is just talk. _I_ have done more things _better_ than any man than she has, and what does she do? Runs away when bandits comes!"

"I've struck a nerve."

"Listen, just because I worry for you do not make me _weak_ , understand? Do not compare me to that girl."

"That's my girl."

"You better remember it," she warned.

Vahlok smiled. "So… in answer to your worrying about me. I'll be fine, really. I've got Sven, Noster, and Lydia to guard my back. Odahviing to watch me from above. There's nothing to worry about."

"But still," she pleaded, resting her head against his cheek. "I want you to be safe. I know the Daedra. They'll use any means to kill you if you invade their realm."

"The Ideal Masters are not Daedra, at least so far as I know. And, according to the few books I've gathered, the Daedric Lords are not willing to help one another, much less the lesser ones. I have nothing to fear from those few Daedric Princesses who have befriended me—or should I say, I befriended them?" He smiled. "In any case, the very nature of chaos dictates that it cannot "form" together for any lasting purpose, unlike the Aedric powers."

She waved it all aside, theology and myths not holding interest at the moment. "But, please, if you won't stay… at least be careful. Lydia is right about you. You don't take thought for yourself, only for others. Try to spare some of your attention for yourself. You're not Talos, Vahlok, you aren't invulnerable. Please… stay safe."

Vahlok rose, pulling her up with him. His Dwarven armor, like Lydia's, glowed faintly with enchantments, but of Fortification, a strengthening of the metal. It bespoke of power and grandeur of an age long forgotten. He folded his arms around her, drawing her close.

Then, before she could ask, he enfolded her into a deep embrace, kissing her as if she were life itself. Gabriella stiffened at first—not used to such open embraces, even in bed—then relaxed, and opened herself to him. For a long time only the fire made any sound within the building; outside the myriad sounds of the gathering force had somehow fallen silent.

Then they broke apart.

Vahlok looked down into her eyes, his blue eyes a startling contrast to her crimson ones, and answered:

 _"My task is set before me, girl_  
 _My mission clear and true_  
 _There'll be black knights and dragons, girl_  
 _But I will always come for you…"_

The Dunmeri woman smiled, feeling reassured at last, and whispered, "Then come home to me, when your task is done. Home to your children, and your family."

He kissed her one last time, then turned and went for the door. It opened… then closed. But it did not represent the close of Fate, the harbinger of death. To Gabriella, it was a promise, that he would return. _And when he returned_ , she thought contentedly, _I'll be waiting for him._

Still smiling, she went to pull on her cape, preparing to go visit her children, and followed out after him.

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A/N: This is intended to be a novella or novelette, depending on how many words I put into the next few chapters which are to follow. They are, respectively, going to deal with the invasion of the Soul Cairn and the aftermath. Forgive me if the detail is heavy—I don't have any of the add-ons to the Main Game, and neither have I completed the Main Quest despite having started and restarted four or five times.

I intend to modify a lot of things here as I write, so if there are things or lore that seem extremely odd, that would be me, making changes. :) Also, forgive me if Gabriella is out-of-character. I know she isn't the possessive-clingy person, but life's been hard on her. Oh, and the Dragonborn is the typical DB of the game, not my own, patented DB, who'll show up in another story (and has a brief mention in this story, though not by name).

A shout out to Kiliani, MaChaoJustice, and maximsk for inspiring me to write for the first time in the ES fandom. This idea was first broached to maximsk after I read his excellent story "The Currents of Time". If you haven't looked at either of them, then you should.

Fire away with your reviews!


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